You Think Losing to Air Bud Is Bad, It’s Even Worse Being the Team That Beat Air Bud

Everyone knows it’s hard being the high school basketball team that lost to Air Bud. He’s a dog; it’s an embarrassing defeat. But people don’t realize it’s worse being the team that went out, played hard, and beat that beloved golden retriever by eighty-seven points.

Famously, there’s no rule against a dog playing basketball. Apparently, there is one big rule about forfeiting against a dog playing basketball. I gladly would’ve given Air Bud’s team of ragtag teens the morally uplifting win, but the Washington State Athletic Commission made us spend forty-five minutes dunking on man’s best friend.

Trust me, we tried to lose, but it wasn’t enough. Air Bud is very skilled at bouncing a game-winning shot off his snout in an emotional third-act climax, but he’s less adept at small things like dribbling. The dog does not have hands. I said that phrase so many times during the game. There’s only so much stalling you can do before your team starts draining mid-range jumpers.

You can’t blame my basketball team for playing basketball. It’s not their fault Air Bud never mastered zone defense. I won’t apologize for the winning tactic of holding the ball slightly above how high a dog can jump. For this tactical feat, we won the game but lost the public relations battle.

Winning against Air Bud’s team hurts even me as a coach. You don’t get the benefit of the doubt from strangers who overhear you saying you “beat a dog.”

We didn’t even play Air Bud in his prime. We beat him after he played basketball, soccer, football, and went to space twice. If you think people don’t clap when you beat a young dog (they don’t), come see a group of all-state seniors dunk on an elderly pet taking a nap under the net.

I don’t blame Air Bud; I blame the other coach who thought this would go well again. Not every play can be a slow-motion victory shot framing Air Bud’s new, precocious owner and his former, cantankerous character actor owner in the background. That doesn’t work in the second quarter. Try running the pick-and-roll instead of learning life lessons against kids six months away from starting at Duke.

After we beat Air Bud’s team, the town threw a parade… for Air Bud. They cheered for his unwavering spirit against a rotten group of sore winners, while my team silently ate fajitas in the back booth at Applebee’s.

At least I can look forward to next season when I’m coaching a high school baseball team full of popular, vain jocks. Our first game is against a plucky group of benchwarmers brought together by a cranky old coach who learns the value of friendship through sport. I’m sure it’ll go great for us!